


Coma

by hailingstars



Series: Febuwhump [9]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Caffeine Withdrawal, Caffeine crash, Febuwhump, Fluff, Peter lives on caffeine, Sleep Deprivation, as do we all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 08:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailingstars/pseuds/hailingstars
Summary: When Peter crashes after too much caffeine, he crashes hard.Also, Tony tries to fix Peter's sleeping schedule. Tries.





	Coma

**Author's Note:**

> Yesterday was pretty heavy, so here's more fluff!!

Tony walked into his living room, saw the absolute catastrophe that’d happen overnight, and froze in place. He made his breathing lighter. He calculated how much noise he would make if he turned and went back the other direction, or whether it’d be safer to walk backwards in place. Any amount of noise was enough to enough noise to wake up Spider-Kid with his ultra-sensitive hearing, and Tony had no way of knowing how far he was into his caffeine induced coma. 

Before Tony decided on the best escape route, before he even moved again at all, there was ruffling of papers as Peter’s hand flew up from the pile of notebooks, textbooks and empty Red Bull cans that littered the floor around where he laid. 

“Mrrrr. Sstttark,” said Peter. His arm dropped back down to the floor like dead weight. “I’m tired.” 

“What time did you go to sleep?” 

“What time is it now?” 

Tony checked his watch. “9:32.” 

“Oh,” said Peter. “Like 9:28.” 

Tony exhaled and walked around the couch to approach the grave of healthy sleeping habits. His brain was already alive formulating a new mission for the day. He couldn’t help meddling when it came to Peter’s life. The boy was helpless by himself, and as if to prove this point, he was lying flat on the floor. His eyes were closed, and that was an obstacle to Tony’s mission. 

He kicked him. 

“Hey, cut it out, I’m trying to sleep down here.” 

“No you’re getting up,” said Tony. He aimed his foot at a few of the empty Redbull cans, and to his horror, uncovered a couple of Starbucks bottles. “Kid you really gotta cut down the caffeine intake, alright?” 

He hummed but it was non-committal. “How else am I supposed to pull an all-night so I can finish my mid-term?” 

“Umm I don’t know? How about not waiting until the last minute?” 

Peter popped one of his eyes open. “I like living life on the edge, Mr. Stark.” 

“Yeah, well one day when you’re as ancient as me that much caffeine will kick your heart right over that edge.” 

“If I live that long,” said Peter, nonchalant and innocent and as if the comment hadn’t been designed to increase Tony’s own heartrate.

 

“What?”

“You know I just figure my life span is considerably shorter –“

“-Stop talking, stop talking right now,” said Tony. Neither his head nor his heart could stand the thought. “And get up. I’m taking you to breakfast.” 

His declaration was met with whining, with a string of long and dramatic Mr. Starks, and with Peter flopping over on his stomach and attempting to hug the floor while Tony pried him up by his middle. It was a struggle that lasted a lot longer than Tony wanted it to, but eventually Spider-Kid was standing on his feet, frowning and glaring at him with crossed arms. 

“Aww,” said Tony. He reached over and ruffled his hair. “You’re so adorable when you’re trying to look mad.” 

He attempted a deeper frown, a glare with more fury, but it just made Tony laugh. 

“Are you gonna change and do something about your hair? Or you just gonna walk around the city in yesterday’s clothes?” 

Peter didn’t respond, not verbally, but instead retreated in the direction of his bedroom. Fifteen minutes later when there was still no Peter, Tony stepped into the boy’s room and found him fast asleep on his bed. He sighed, but also, he was committed to the idea of correcting Peter’s sleeping patterns. He’d keep him awake, he’d keep him away from caffeine, and he’d stop waking up to the mess of Peter’s homework all-nighters. 

*

He took Peter to a diner on the other side of the city. It’d been a long time since Tony had tried to take anywhere with more class. He’d spend the entire meal obsessing about why the prices weren’t listed on the menu and driving Tony crazy by fidgeting with his suit jacket. Diners were better for both of them. Peter had the assurance that his pancakes only cost 3.99, and Tony could eat in peace.

At least most of the time. Today he couldn’t escape the whining, 

“I’ll take coffee,” Peter told the waiter. “And can you bring sugar? Lots of it?” 

“No,” said Tony. “He’ll have water, no sugar, and a kid’s menu.” 

The waiter chuckled, wrote on his notecard and disappeared into the kitchen. 

“Mr. Stark,” said Peter. “How do you expect me to stay awake all day if you won’t let me have caffeine? That… that’s impossible.”

“You’ll find a way.”

Peter let his face fall forward on the table and covered his head with his hands. The groaning got worse when the waiter, who either didn’t catch the joke or had decided to play along with it, brought back an actual kid’s menu. The rage, at least, seemed to supply Peter with enough energy to eat three stacks of pancakes and two orders of scrambled eggs. 

*

By midday, by the time they’re taking a short cut through Central Park, Peter looked like a zombie. The dark circles were taking over his face, his movements were slow and sluggish, and Tony was starting to feel as if this whole mission was doomed to fail from the start. It was apparent that Peter couldn’t make it through the rest of the day without some sleep, and Tony’s mission changed from keeping Peter awake all day to keeping Peter conscious until they got back to the penthouse. 

“Just…” said Peter. “Let’s stop… for a quick break.” 

He stood several paces behind Tony, and in front of a bench. His eyes were pleading and Tony couldn’t say no. He already felt like an asshole parent for dragging this kid out as tired as he was. He nodded and Peter wasted no time throwing himself on the bench. 

Tony looked away just for a moment. A fraction of a second his attention was diverted by a couple walking with their infant through the park, and when he looked back, Peter was passed out, mouth open, drooling on the bench, looking just as peaceful and comfortable as he had looked in his bed. 

“Pete. Wake up.” 

There was hope in his voice as he pushed his shoulder, but he knew the kid wasn’t going to wake up. This was catatonic, complete caffeine hangover, comatose Peter, and it would take a litter of puppies or newest Star Wars Lego set to wake up him. 

“Well, shit,” said Tony. He had no choice. He picked him up, pleasantly surprised to find he was lighter than he thought he’d be, and carefully arranged him so he was over his shoulder. 

They attracted a lot of attention. He was Tony Stark, carrying an unconscious teenage through the streets of New York, trying not to buckle under the weight. It was pretty tiring, even if the boy was light, and by the time he got Peter back to the penthouse, he was exhausted. 

Once again, he approached the grave of healthy sleeping habits. It was still empty cans of energy drinks, school papers, and trash. He laid Peter on the couch and covered him with a blanket, looking at him with envy. He made a decision, he put the mission on hold, and set the alarm on his phone.

He lifted up Peter’s feet, settled himself on couch, let his legs fall over him while he kicked his own feet up on the coffee table, in the midst of Peter’s mess. He’d make him clean it up. Later. After sleep. All he wanted to be in that moment was Tony Stark, taking a nap in the middle of the nap, and participating in unhealthy sleeping patterns. 

He shut his eyes, guessed Peter had to get it from someone, and let sleep take him.


End file.
